The morning air is bitter as it presses against my skin, sending a thorough chill down my spine. I swing my feet and wiggle my toes to keep the blood flowing, but feel my heartbeat quicken when I find they've gone numb. With a grunt, I shift myself over to the trunk of the tree, and lift my useless legs out of the air, and rest them on the branch I sit atop.
It wasn't as though the air was cold, it was summer, after all, it was because I'd been sitting in the tree for hours, unmoving, just waiting for something to come along. I continue to try to wriggle my toes enclosed by my leather boots, and regain feeling in my lower calves. I make a mental note to never sit still for more than ten minutes next time.
Next time.
The words flow through my brain as if there really is such a thing as 'next time'. I push the suicidal thoughts from my head and continue to massage my weak legs, all the while keeping alert for any signs of life in the deadbeat forest I rest in. It's when I finally start to feel my finger tips pressing hard into my skin that the optimism floods slowly back into my brain. Maybe I won't need an amputation after all.
I freeze when I hear a steady crunching sound from below. I quickly grab an arrow from its holder, and position it against my bow. I squeeze one eye shut, and concentrate on where the noise comes from. The noise gradually became louder, and I almost began to discharge my weapon when I realize these were not the thud of prey's footsteps, but rather a human's. Well, quite possibly. I keep my weapon in position, just in case.
I'm just about to strike again when a familiar figure comes into view. His head bent low, his eyes fixing on a tree some paces ahead. I follow his gaze but see nothing. Then again, he'd always been the better hunter. I watch as he pulls back his arrow, a faint vein popping from the side of his neck. Beads of sweat drip down his face, and then the arrow flies.
It sticks to a tree I'd almost been positive I'd checked over, and I find he's snagged himself a squirrel. I feel a blush form on my face. How could I have missed that?
I jump down from my perch and watch as he whips around, his weapon points directly between my eyes. I roll my eyes and watch as he sighs in relief. "How many times do I have to tell you," he starts with an exasperated sigh.
"Don't sneak up on people," I finish for him, my voice a mocking tone.
"If you know it so well, why must you continue doing it?" he asks, before turning around and climbing the bottom branch of the tree to collect his winnings.
"Because if I don't keep you on your toes, you wouldn't of made it this far. Let's face it, Reese. Without me, you'd be dead."
"Without you, I wouldn't have heart problems," he mutters, stuffing the carcass into a bag he kept wrapped around his shoulders.
"And just where's the fun without heart problems?" I smirk, and place the unused arrow I'd kept steady in my hand back inside the holder.
"Catch anything?" he asks, as we begin to make our way back to camp.
"A squirrel and rabbit." I beam proudly at my earnings.
"You were out all night, and you only caught a squirrel and rabbit?" his voice irritates me, and I furrow my eyebrows defensively.
"Don't know if you realize this, but the forest isn't as plentiful as it was before," I spit, my hand gripping the bow in my hand intensely.
He gives me a solemn expression in return and slows his pace down until he's barely stopped. "They'll make you give that up, you know." His voice is barely a whisper and by now, we've come to a complete halt. I stare off into the distance, listening as an invisible bird chirps from above.
"Maybe some of the other hunters got lucky. They'll let me and Caroline take at least the squirrel." I say the words, but there isn't much meaning behind them.
Suddenly, a fire sparks in the boy's brown eyes, and he grabs my prey-bag and arrow-holder from my grasp. Before I can protest, and yanks the squirrel out of the bag and shoves it into my arrow bag. "Tell them it was a slow day," he orders. "You didn't catch any squirrel."
I slowly nod my head. I looked at Reese in grief and notice how the skin on his face was exactly that: skin. No meat hid behind his cheeks, and I had to blink to remind myself that Reese was alive, and not just a skeleton.
"What about you? They'll take everything you've got, too," the tone in my voice picks up defensively, and I watch as he forces a smile upon his weathered face.
"They need me, Aubrey. They'll take care of me."
His voice is full of reassurance, but I remain skeptic yet. If they take such great care of him, they why does he resemble a walking skeleton, and why can I hear his stomach growl through the crunch of the leaves under his boots? I shake off the feeling of anger. Becoming overemotional would get us nowhere. It's best to keep feelings inside.
Our walk home is full of silence, but strangely, I don't mind. Reese and I didn't always need to talk in order to know what each other are saying. We both dread going back to camp, but where else can we possibly go? I sigh. This world is not made for one or two humans to travel upon, alone. This is a dangerous world now, and I can't help but think back to what the leaders had taught us as Earth began spiraling down: there is always strength in numbers.
"You will never make it on your own," the lieutenant had stated, walking across the stage, his watchful gaze stretched upon his audience. "You might think going home to your family will be easiest. But I'll tell you one thing; you are dead wrong."
I'd stared up at him, Caroline at my side, her hand placed firmly in mine. She squeezed every so often, and I'd squeeze back, just to show her that in some ways, I was still there.
"The only way that the human race can survive this, is by sticking together. Over half the population has been wiped clean already!" he raised his voice, and I heard some onlookers gasp at his statistic. I couldn't help but notice the crazy glimmer in the man's eyes when he stared in my direction. "We need to keep what's left of our humanity, and start a new life. We have to prove that one little infection will not take the best of us."
The infection. The virus. The walkers. The dead. The camp. The words make me shudder. But there was nothing left to do but hope and pray this would all pass over sooner or later, and we'd go on with our lives as normal. I knew this just as well as I know now, though; normal isn't an option anymore.
Before we come into sight of the camp, Reese stops me again, this time, turning me around and placing something rather heavy in my kill bag.
"Thank you?" I ask questionably.
"One of my rabbits. If you walk in there with just one, they won't be happy about that, even if it just was a slow day." I see the truth in his words and I nod in acceptance.
We turn back towards the large gates and come into view. A guard at the top hold us in his crosshairs, but slowly lets the gun down, signaling to the inside to let us pass. Reese holds up his hand in a 'thanks' kind of manner, and we walk through the main entrance, and meet the other two soldiers that will inspect us for further screening.
"Find anything good?" one of the soldiers asks, as he places a thermometer in Reese's ear.
"Got a few rabbits, squirrels." He shrugs. "The usual."
"And you?" he walks towards me, cleaning the thermometer with a damp cloth before sticking into my ear.
"A couple rabbits," I tell him. His eyes narrow disapprovingly, but he says no more, and grants us access to the main part of camp.
The camp is heavily guarded, as it used to be a military base. Most people would say we've found the safe haven, but if they really knew, they wouldn't think that for a second. At the time when the outbreak became global, Lieutenant Marks seemed like the best bet for survival. He talked a good speech, and ensured that if we went with him, we'd face no troubles. And we hadn't, not with the walkers at least.
This camp is more of a work camp, than a safe camp. There was no time for rest here, and if you were caught slacking off, it was punishable by death. Marks had turned out to be more like a monster than a God, and his true colors shone brightly when he shot a young boy of probably about fifteen, in the center of camp, as to make an example of what would happen if you were caught rebelling.
The rules were simple. Do what you can for the group, or die. Most women took care of preparing meals, laundry, and any sort of cleaning or teaching the young kids, providing pleasure for the men. The men, on the other hand, would hunt and guard. A balance of work that just did not seem fair in my eyes. The soldiers were treated as pure gold, and were never questioned on their actions. I secretly spited them, and kept myself close to Caroline and Reese.
I am a different case. I don't enjoy cleaning, laundry, or cooking, and although I still participate in these activities on occasion, I find myself in the woods most of the time, watching for other survivors, taking down easy prey, and mostly, thinking up in my lookout tree.
"Let's go to the hut first," Reese whispers to me, barely moving his lips. "Drop off the squirrel and one of my rabbits, and then we'll take the rest to the collection."
I follow his movements until we reach our designated hut. Caroline is not in her bed, so I figure she's out with Claire, learning something utterly useless about history, and I quickly drop the squirrel on the ground beside Reese's rabbit, and we cover it quickly with a small blanket.
We walk out of the hut quickly, and towards the collection in silence. Some other hunters had just gotten back from their trip, and hand over some squirrels, birds, and even a raccoon. Reese and I walk up to the guards, and empty our sacks.
"That's it?" one of the guards looks distastefully in my direction.
"It was a slow morning," I tell him through gritted teeth.
He scoffs. "I think you should just stick to kitchen duty."
I tense, and Reese places a protective hand on my arm, urging me to calm down. I comply, and force a smile. "I'll find more next time."
"Don't come back until you've got at least half a sac full. This is just pathetic."
He throws my kill into the pile like it's garbage, and turns to the hunter standing behind us. I feel the blood in my veins boiling, and storm away, muttering undistinguishable curses with every step.
"Hey," I hear Reese call, grabbing my hand.
"This is complete bullshit!" I growl.
"I know—"
"I catch so many things for those ungrateful bastards. One day, one day, I don't come back with a substantial amount, and I have to listen to that shit?" my voice rises with every word, and Reese looks around nervously. Onlookers raise their eyebrows in worry, and a few guards turn their ears in my direction. I force myself to take a deep breath. The last person who made a scene in the camp was shot on the spot.
"Don't worry about them," Reese whispers, pulling my arm towards our hut.
"How can I not? They'll prevent me from hunting anymore, and then what will Caroline eat?" I ask, my voice cracking in distress.
"They won't prevent you from hunting. And if so, I'll make sure you and Caroline get enough to eat," his words are full of sincere and promise, and I finally nod in defeat. Reese would never let Caroline or I go hungry. I could always count of him.
"Thank you," I whisper, as he pulled me into a hug and presses his lips atop my forehead. We're not in the center of attention anymore, but people still watch us warily.
Reese has always been like a brother to me, even at an early age. We grew up next door to each other, and he was my first friend, from what I can remember. Being a grade older than me, he ensured protection. It also helped that he was one of the popular kids, and kept my reputation secure by just walking down the hallways with me.
The rest of the afternoon passes by as normal. Reese takes our stolen kill and pretends as though he's cooking for the soldiers, who are guaranteed first meal. Then, he stealthily takes pieces of the meat and shoves them into his deep pockets, keeping a watchful eye on me, while I keep a watchful eye on the guards. No one seems to notice.
And that's when we hear it. The sun's just beginning to set, and the sky is a deep orange color, beautiful almost. But the life of the sunset is drawn out by a horrible scream, coming from inside the one of the huts. It's a woman, and she's in danger, but of what, we aren't certain. The camp is almost impossible for a walker to get through, so for a moment, we all stare in the general direction of where the screech came from.
Sure enough, and soldier pulls a struggling woman out from her hut, his hand grasping her hair firmly, a scowl painted on his harsh features. He brings her to the center of camp and throws her down, as two other soldiers walk towards him.
I recognize the woman as Betty, a mother of two, who usually keeps to herself. Her eyes cloud with regret and torture, and I blink away as she catches my eye. This can't be good. I look in the direction of which she came, and see her two little girls watching helplessly from the sidelines. Reese is clenching his jaw, doing everything he can not to lash out.
The soldiers keep their guns out, all pointing at Betty. Soon, Marks strides out of his den, structure calm, but eyes merciless, none the less. He walks towards her and clears his throat. "And what's the meaning of this commotion?"
"I caught her stealing," the guard growls. I see Reese shift out of the corner of my eye.
"Stealing what?" he asks, as if it makes a difference.
"Bread. From the soldiers. I followed her to her hut. She had at least three rolls in her jacket."
"Hmm." Marks furrows his eyebrows as if there was some sort of decision to be made. But I know, just as well as anyone else, there is only one solution to this act.
"Please," she chokes out. "My children are starving," she glances in their direction, but Marks doesn't faze.
"So, you think that makes stealing right?" Marks narrows his eyebrows.
"No," her eyes are pleading. "Never, I-I wasn't thinking."
Marks straightens his back and turns to the other survivors. "I try to run a good thing here," he starts. "I provide shelter, food, security. Let's not forget where you'd all be if you didn't have me. Dead," his voice booms.
I take this time to look around the area. Fear. It's all I see in the eyes of the campers. Would we all get punished for Betty's actions? Would he truly kill her in front of her children? I feel movement beside me, and realize Caroline has made her way over to me, silently, her hand squeezing itself into mine. I hold my composure. For her sake.
"This is no way to treat your savior," he glares back down at the woman. "Stealing from the soldiers, the ones who keep you safe. The ones that even allow you to keep them alive!" he points behind him to the children, who let out a tiny whimper.
"I promise I've learned my lesson, please," she continues to plead, tears streaming like rivers down her cheeks. I want to do something, but speaking out now would mean certain death, and I have to think of the little girl beside me. I'm all she has left, since Mom and Dad passed.
"I'm sorry," Marks says, hanging his head as if he actually does feel something for the poor woman. "But this just cannot do. You've gone too far."
And with that. He takes his gun out of his holder. He points it at her terrified face. And in one instant, pulls the trigger.
There are several gasps from the crowd, and I close my eyes, feeling Caroline dig her face into my leg. Betty's children let out a terrible wail. I want to mute them, turn off the sound. It's all too much. I feel Reese's eyes burning into me, and when I return the stare, I realize I've never seen those warm eyes so cold before. They were menacing. Terrifying.
"Anyone else have anything they'd like to share?" Marks' gruff voice brings us back to reality.
Nobody speaks but that didn't mean you couldn't feel the words pouring out of each and every one of our brains. Marks lets out a grunt and stalks back up to his lair, two guards following like lost puppies. I realize that since Betty had been shot, I hadn't taken a breath. I open my mouth and start to breathe, but it chokes as it comes out, and I bit my lip to keep from crying.
There's movement to my left, and I see Alice, a young woman about my age, gather Betty's children in her arms, and lead them into her hut. Then, Robert, a middle-aged man with worry wrinkles consistently planted on his face, walks over to the body, and places his jacket over her dismantled face.
I turn my head around camp and find that all of the guards have gone back about their business. As if nothing happened. As if a poor, innocent, woman wasn't just brutally murdered in front of our eyes. As if her children weren't in the hut to the left, every single bit of childhood they had left in them gone. It reminds me of Caroline, her face is still buried in my leg, warm tears soaking through my pant leg.
"Come on, Sweetie," I say, my voice completely emotionless.
I lead her towards our hut, and once inside, stare at the door, watching as it opens and closes again. Reese paces around the small area of the shelter. He's grumbling, but I have no energy to interpret what he's saying. I just sit on the edge of our cot, Caroline's small fragile body lying in my lap, as she continues to whimper in my arms.
"What the fuck!" his voice gradually gets louder, and when he looks at me, I see there are tears streaming down his face. "He can't do that!"
"But he did," I whisper. My eyes staring off in no particular direction.
"And he'll do it again," Reese growls. He steps in front of me and kneels down so our faces are almost touching. "We have to get out of here."
The words astonish me, and I snap back to realism. Leave? That's a death sentence all its own. Millions, if not billions, of walkers wait just outside the borders of our sanctuary. We'd be dead within seconds. "We can't do that," I tell him.
"And why the Hell not?" his voice is angry.
"Because we'll die!" I shout at him, squeezing Caroline's hand just a bit harder.
"Please don't tell me you've bought into his lies," Reese hisses. "He's just saying that to scare us!"
"So there isn't an army of dead people just waiting to sink their teeth into us the moment we step out of our borders?"
"We can keep a low profile, travel by day, camp by night. If there are just the three of us, it'll be easier to sneak around them," the anger vanishes, and his eyebrows are pulled together by deep thought.
"Reese, you're talking absurd. I will not let Caroline die."
"She won't die."
"I can't risk that."
There is a long silence in the hut. Reese stares at me for a few moments, an unreadable emotion filling his eyes, before turning on heel, and leaving, slamming the door behind him.
I press my lips together, but can't seem to stop the tears that push themselves to the surface on my eyes, and eventually spill out down my cheeks. Reese didn't understand. He could never understand. I had made a promise to Mom that I would watch over Caroline at whatever it takes. The promise was the only thing I can hold on to.
I feel Caroline's chest move slower and slower, and know that she's cried herself into a deep sleep. I feel free to cry even more, because now she isn't awake to hear it. To see it. To see the weakness in my face. The cries of defeat. I slowly lift her off my lap, and lie down next to her on the hard bed. I stroke the hair out of her eyes, and slowly fall into a restless sleep, all the while, trying to push the thought that Reese is right out of my head.
I feel my chest burn when I finally reach my conclusion. We do need to get out of here. And I would make sure that Caroline's deep breathing would occur for the rest of my life.
Even if it costs mine in the process.
XX
Hey! So this is my first chapter. I kind of just want to see how it goes, and everything, so if you want to give me some good feedback, that'd be awesome! Critiques and all, I just want to improve my writing. :)
So anyway, yes, the cast of The Walking Dead will make their appearance shortly, I just wanted to give an insight to Aubrey's life. I figure that some evil man would use the apocalypse as a reason to dictate a bunch of scared, hopeless people, so Marks is my version of that. So I hope I got off to a good start, and again, feel free to give me tips or anything that'll help me advance in my writing.
Oh yeah, and this is definitely DarylxOC… as in DarylxAubrey.
Thanks for taking the time to read!